


The Act of Persuasion

by InSchadenfreude



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Cannibalism, Explicit Sexual Content, Gore, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InSchadenfreude/pseuds/InSchadenfreude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After repressing years of torment, Sniper makes it his duty to inflict justice on those who wronged him, stalking the perpetrators and teaming up with old comrades to help him in his pursuit.</p><p>[Collaboration with Fortyninemorgan on Deviantart]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loose Ties

Time hadn't been kind as the years had gone on, and with the fighting ceased and forts ruled by dust, retirement felt out of place. Only months had gone by since leaving, but here or there it was as if they'd never left. The grudges of old battles still raged on within their minds; a virus collecting and overwhelming to some as they ignored or pleasured the darkness festering against the empty threshold within them.  
The cracks of bone dry wood spew silt into the stiff darkness of the room, it's minuscule specks throwing a thin layer of dirt over the area as it became more prominent and settled over a pair of heavy leather boots at it’s floor. A harsh block of smoke consumed the ceiling as it’s potent origin provided the room a singular point of colour.  
The cigarette embers lit a grimfull expression; a face of a man too filled with resentment and anger to desire anything other than inflicting pain and vengeance...  
In the stillness of the room his breath brought the only form of wind, swirling dust around his hands down to his ankles as he twisted the balls of his feet and leant cautiously into a small dirty journal.  
Sniper's coarse hands held it tightly as he scrawled notes across it’s lines, ignoring margins and tears in the paper as he filled it with channelled hatred and flicked onto the next page. The stains and marks of his previous words followed each line before his harsh script covered them; digging in and repeating the pattern to the oncoming page over and over again...  
Sore tensed eyes looked each word over before glancing away through the clear skyline window, peering over the street below…

This wasn't the Fort anymore...

The constant allure of daydreams kept Sniper on his toes, feeling out of place as the ground beneath his feet turned from his crooked memories to the short haired carpet of the hotel room; the specks of dust atop his shoes changing to ash as he glanced around and reminded himself of the present...  
Firm fingers rubbed his forehead as Sniper's fixated eyes followed the ageing street signs and peered across the sidewalk to the dully lit window two blocks from his position...

As early morning sun crept across the small, clothing strewn bedroom floor an alarm clock sounded. A steady hand reached over and softly tapped the off button, fact is, he'd been awake for at least an hour and a half.  
Scout lay there a moment longer, thinking about the past and the possible future; he actually missed his old life, having a captive audience for him to talk to, taunt and prank was great for one of the youngest members of the old team, but coming back home had been much lonelier than he had expected…  
Scout got up stumblingly and shambled to the bathroom, examining his face quick in the mirror before he left.  
He glanced down then back up, looking himself in the eye sternly as he searched for his confidence, "You got this!" He assured himself, turning to go down a narrow hall to the small but extremely clean kitchen.  
"Good morning, sweety! Big day tomorrow! Are you excited? Oh, I could just die, I know you're gonna do great! " His mom gushed.  
"Hi ma, morning...yeah." he said, attempting to sound confident as he poured himself a bowl of cereal.  
"Imagine, my boy, in the big leagues finally! Oh, I'll have to tell everyone! Its much better than that old job of yours. You had me worried sick with that!" She continued happily.  
"Uh hu.." Scout sighed a little, having heard this same conversation almost every day this week. He'd gotten into the minor league almost immediately after leaving the fort life, and now, finally, he'd been invited to try out for the Boston Red Socks.  
The young athlete put his empty bowl in the sink and headed for the door, turning back to speak over his shoulder. "See ya, ma, I'm heading to the diamond.”  
"Ok sweety, have fun!" She called back, waving a little.  
That small gesture always made him smile, and he headed out to ride the elevator down from their apartment and walk out onto the sidewalk. Scout had taken to running to the local park diamond everyday to meet a few friends for last minute practice before try outs; he checked the laces on his shoes before taking off, picking up speed until he was at a comfortable pace and his mind finally started to empty. Running brought a nice oblivion to his frantic thoughts and soon there was nothing going through his mind but his own steady breathing. A song popped into his head; he let it stay. Today wasn't so bad, he felt pretty good compared to his hectic baseline.  
Scout rounded a blind corner as a car rounded from the other way, obviously burning oil and breaking down, it blew a toxic cloud of black smoke straight into his lungs. "Ack! Hey! Loser! Fix your damn car before you kill someone, jackass!" He shouted, trying to wave the smoke out of his face. The taint forced him to slow down as it caused a small stitch in his diaphragm, but thankfully,the driver ignored him and kept on his way as the engine coughed and spluttered down the road. Throwing the back of the beat up vehicle a final dirty look, Scout slowly got back up to speed, the stitch fading away as the air cleared again and let him exchange the smoke for fresh air. "Yeah..I got this." He thought to himself as he continued down his path.

"Steady..." The barrel of the gun rested lightly on the latch of the open window, pivoting towards the memory provoking target as he sped up the sidewalk. Sniper was quite proud of the fact he'd managed to keep posession of his rifle, but it's glory days seemed to be long behind it as the mechanism caught up and jammed on the first bullet. A forced sigh cleared his throat as he quickly exchanged it and scoped in on Scout, coming closer and closer to the corner for easy pickings…

The bullet soared... Sound covered by the bangs of the engine and exhaust pipe as it went missing into a thick black fog covering his vision... It blocked his target from view as he stood up sharply for a better look, attempting to focus through the thick screen of smoke obscuring the scene below.  
"Agh... Piss..."  
He couldn't be sure...  
In a rehearsed movement another bullet slipped in the cartridge, aimed directly for Scout's head as the smoke cleared from the corner.  
"Gotcha..."  
Sniper pulled back the trigger, readying himself for the kick as the bullet ignited and fled from the rifle…  
However, a swift the motion of falling caught him in disorientation as the barrel slid off the latch and lowered the trajectory to the side of Scout's collar bone… He watched it wrongly pierce through, hoping by shear fluke it would finish the job... But it wasn't enough. The injury ruined the opportunity of getting a third and final chance especially when the athlete was fuelled by adrenaline and paranoia…

Scout felt like someone had punched him in the shoulder, but the closest person was down the sidewalk a ways yet. He had stopped and was staring at the other person in confusion when his skin registered the dampness seeping through his shirt. He looked down and saw the blood blooming through the thin fabric and only then did the pain choose to strike.  
"Ah, Shit!" He swore as the muscles in his shoulder clenched, sending a wave of agony up into the side of his neck. He backed up, standing flat against the nearest building. This was a familiar pain, but not a welcome one as he scanned the upper floors of the buildings across the street. He darted through traffic, holding his wounded shoulder and crossed the street, plastering his back to the opposite buildings facade and scanning the buildings again before darting down the sidewalk; he wasn’t going to stay in one spot long enough to provide another shot for the old friend. “God Dammit! Really?!" He shouted, more angry than panicked as he yelled to the rooftops. He knew he had to get somewhere safe, and fast if he wanted to survive. Scout skirted along the front of the buildings he figured the culprit was most likely in, trying to stay too close to be seen from above. He was bleeding bad, and running wasn't helping matters, pulsing the blood faster and faster through the flayed opening on his shirt. "I gotta get to a hospital." He thought desperately as the blood soaked down and began to stain the waste band of his pants. People gave him panicked looks as he passed them, a few even screamed, but no one offered any help as he ran past them, almost as if they didn’t want to accept the reality in front of them.  
Scout knew a short cut to the nearest hospital; he'd just been there last month getting stitches from a wild pitch hitting him above the eye, but following the route meant the ER entrance was on the other side. Scout didn't know if he'd make it that far without passing out. He walked into the nearest door, which was just the clinical side. Nurses ran to his aid, getting a wheelchair and hurrying him to the Emergency side of the hospital, barraging him with questions about what had happened; how long ago? did he see the shooter? was his arm numb? blah blah blah... He tuned them out, his head pounding as he heard his heart loudly reverberating through his skull. The nurses rushed them through several sets of doors until he realized he had slowed. He looked around sluggishly and his eyes fell upon a familiar frame. "Doc? wha...is that you?" He asked, reeling forward a little as his head swam.

“Scou-“ Medic cleared his throat, cautious to what could be unearthed if anyone looked why they knew each other; he wasn’t going to lose his medical licence again… This job brought a level of peace to his mind that he hadn’t experienced since leaving his mercenary profession. “Shhh…” The Doctor whispered to himself “I von’t risk it…”  
His unfitting gloves creased as he clenched his fingers on the edge of the medical cart, pushing and ordering the nurses to administer varying doses of chemicals. The paper-thin blue latex felt uncomfortable; after years of wearing thick rubber gloves it was like putting your hand into a powdered mold that no felt too loose to fit…  
Looking at Scout brought back more memories than he’d of liked but he couldn’t crack. Not now. Not here. After he’d gotten so far… So far from the clashes of anger and torment within his head…  
Scout had been murmuring halfhearted questions the whole trip to the back room, all of which seemed to be getting ignored. "I must not be loud enough." He thought to himself.  
As they crashed through the emergency doors those unvital were pushed out of the way, leaving only Medic and a few other nurses to accompany them as they pulled Scout from the trolly and positioned him on the steel medical bed.  
A rough sigh escaped him as Medic came closer to examine an all too familiar wound. “A notorious mark… I didn’t zhink I wouldn’t be seeing zhis injury on you again.” He turned swiftly away to the closest nurse and muttered bitter sounding commands out of ear shot, persuading him to leave and gather more supplies.  
A solemn look drifted from his face as he turned back to scout, carefully edging him to lean up as per protocol. “Interesting.. Zhe bullet seems to have ricocheted off your bones and exited a few inches from it’s point of entry” Medic hid the reminiscent excitement from his voice, but could only dull his keen expression towards the wound, pressing around the outside as he made sure it was one bullet.  
It wasn't until Medic began examining the wound that Scout found his voice fully. "Ow, hey...That hurts..." He murmured a little louder, and glared cautiously as the Doctor picked up syringe.  
Medic could barely hear the rest of the world as he pulled the medical cart closer. It felt as though the spotlight on him and scout extinguished any life or voices outside their presence into darkness…  
The needle twang as he checked the morphine for air bubbles, clearing it for injection as he inserted it between the two wounds. “Vhat did you do?” His thick accent asked firmly.  
Scout winced, looking away as the needle stung into his skin. "I didn't do anything...not this time… I was just out on the sidewalk, but..I think we both know who did this, yeah?" He looked up, bleary eyed at the Medic before a moment of realisation hit him. "O no! Hey, Doc, you can fix this right? Ah, shit!" He spoke like someone who had just been woken from deep sleep. "Doc, hey...i gotta be 100% tomorrow..my life was just starting to get on track here..hell.." He looked up at him pleadingly. "Do you still have your medi-gun?”  
A tang of anger pierced the clinical atmosphere; Medic’s teeth gritted against each other as he found words to reply, “No.” The displeasure ached in his words, “It vas 'not my property’.” His eyes focused on the wound, pressing on it thoroughly to make sure the area was numb as his fingers squeezed lightly into a pair of forceps. The surgical steel edged into the bullet hole carefully extracting bloodied fragments into the kidney dish beside him, “You vill have to heal in your own time Scout… but zhat shouldn't be vhat concerns you.” His eyes peered up over Scout's shoulder, though far more decisive and stern than expressing worry for the situation, “Vhat did you do, Scout.” the doctor repeated, keeping direct eyes contact as his hands cleaned him up in a manner he’d done so many times before.  
Scout looked down in distain at the bloody fragments. "Nothing, I swear. I told ya, I was just mindin' my own business when outta nowhere, I get hit!" He said defensively, trying to rub the headache out if his forehead with the hand of his good arm. He sighed heavily and looked up a Medic. "Couldn't have come at a worse time too... bastard!" He dropped his head, looking at the floor in frustration. "Ya know, I was going in tomorrow, tomorrow morning even! Got invited to try out for the Red Socks...ida made it too..." he trailed off as he spoke, hearing the clangs of bullet fragment as they collected beside him. Suddenly, smacking the arm of the chair as hard as he could with his good fist, Scout spoke a little steadier, "You know who did this, right!? Now what?!" He asked, looking murderous. He swayed a little from blood loss and his face paled, he was forced to settle back down and sat quietly a moment.  
“Ja…” Medic turned back to focus as he pulled surgical thread from the cart and held the long end between his teeth. It kept tight as he pierced through and began cross-stitching the section, beckoning a nurse over through closed teeth as the blood seeped and made it difficult for precision.  
Scout grimaced as he felt a numb tugging at his flesh as the thread drug through it. He could hear the popping of the needle as it poked through with each stitch.  
A hefty blood bag came through the doors; set up quickly as Scout began showing strong signs of frailty. “Have you stopped to consider zhe past?”  
The questioned lingered there for a moment, looking for a deeper answer than the current conclusion Scout had been burning on. “Obviously zhis not because of vhat is happening now"  
"Hey, the past is in the past. Not like we weren't all at each others throats. I pranked everyone, hell, you know that." He said, with a shallow laugh, glancing away as the nurse secured the IV of the blood bag. He sighed and continued. "So I joked around with him a bit...so what? He got back at me, he got back at everyone..." He trailed off, chancing a look back at the half-stitched wound. "Hey Doc, is it gonna be ok?" He asked, trying to hold on to some hope.  
Medic’s tone was void of sympathy as he recollected the years they had spent, forced to co-exist, in the never-ending battleground, “Your vounds vill be fine.” He breathed, reluctant to give him a definitive answer, “…You on zhe other hand…”  
The Doctor looked to him carefully, pausing as he realigned the needle beside his other stitches...

 

The pulsing stillness of the room shattered as the atmosphere outside the emergency doors twisted from organised to shaken; uneasiness crept in with startled gasps, igniting a strengthening sense of panic that crashed it’s way into the room, bearing an all too familiar sight.  
Sniper thrust himself through the body of restraining nurses, jagged Shiv glistening in his rough hands as he caught Medic off guard, yanking his shoulder to the floor as the thread ripped through Scouts flesh and followed suit.  
Scout cried out in fear and pain as the thread ripped through his skin, tearing into an un-anaesthetised area. He tried to bolt up, but fell, pulling out the IV and knocking the stand down beside Medic. "Come on!" He shouted, grabbing Medic by the coat and tugging at him feebly as he groaned disorientated on the floor. Scout turned on his back, looking up fearfully at Sniper and scrambled backwards awkwardly.  
His malice filled eyes stared down at Scout, shining in sync with the blade he twisted in his palm as his dark leather boots strode within striking distance of of the runner. “This time…” The whites of his teeth bared as he grinned, raising the notched weapon into the blinding overhead beam of the medical spotlight, "...you won’t be so lucky”

An air of fragility had washed over Medic as he fumbled around in a daze like state; the multiple lights in his vision blurred into one before he could comprehend the events just a few moments prior.  
The shifting dark figure of a man focused in and out of the light, becoming more distinctive with each second as the realisation hit him, forcing Medic from the cold hard plastic of the floor as he threw himself against Sniper before his action could be executed.  
The pair hit faith force against the wall, entwined in a battle for the other’s subjugation as their snarls, fuelled by past and present feuds, filled the compact room.  
"Oh shit, oh shit!" Scout swore, backing up in a scuttling crawl until his back hit resistance. He startled, looking up behind him at the double doors he'd backed into. Scout considered calling out to Medic, but didn't want the attention turned back to himself as he leaned against the doors and neatly rolled backwards through them. Looking down the hall for help he found that everyone had already fled, but it wasn't devoid of hope. There, on the nurses station desk, sat a dial phone. Scout got up and jogged to it, clutching his shoulder as he impatiently circled the dial to a familiar number and groaned as it buzzed back after each digit, “Com’on. Com’on!”  
The phone picked up on the second ring, "Hello?" A pleasant voice asked.  
"Ma! Ma, listen get outta the apartment, now! Go outta town and stay there, you got it?! Now! Go stay with Uncle Jas! You're in danger here!" He shouted, hoping she’d listen as he hung up before she could reply. His slim finger's frantically dialled again, knowing who the next target was going be: his best friend and partner in most of his shenanigans, Sammy, the other Scout.  
Sammy had just gotten home when the phone rang and rushed to answer it, "Hello?”  
"Sammy!! Sam! You gotta watch out! " Scout shouted into the receiver, exploding down the line at the other end.  
Sammy cringed at the volume, and held the phone further away from her ear, "What? What are you on about? Dude..if this is a joke..."

 

 

Murderous grunts of exertion came between the two physically matched men, growling through their chests as they fought to pin the other against the concrete wall. The daze the doctor had been in put him at a disadvantage, loosing his balance as Sniper swung around and grabbed Medic’s hair as he hit his face against the wall. A strong taste of iron burned his tongue as he felt blood escaping his nostrils and trickling down his lip. Looking fiercely into the Australian's eyes.  
Medic had undoubtedly lost, only able to keep a tight grip on Sniper’s clothing as the moment dragged on and secured the man’s position over him.  
“You and I both know it needs to happen.” the thick Australian accent boomed through the adrenaline filled atmosphere, inches from Medic’s ear as he narrowed his eyes in confusion.  
“Vhat?-” Sniper pushed up on medic’s throat, tightening the doctor's airways as he cringed and growled under his breath.  
“Did you forget the years of turmoil he put is through? What all of 'em put us through?” The words snapped from his mouth as Sniper gestured fiercely with the Shiv.  
Medic glanced cautiously at the blade, but only held his gaze on it for a second as he stared back from the corner of his eye into Sniper’s. Hesitancy began to take over his mind, combating the rage he’s suppressed those long months ago as they'd left the site of warfare…  
Silence passed as the venge filled man waited for an answer, knowing the truth already as Medic tried to suppress the answer and it’s definitive cause inside him…  
For years they’d been mocked; by their own team no less, people who were meant to be working together, supporting each other amidst battle… There was no friendship, no sympathy, just a twisted reality that came to pass unnoticed by the onlooker as it festered inside and attached itself to the dark recesses of his mind…  
“No…” Medic mustered, his expression of anger fading towards melancholia as Sniper’s grip slowly eased from his skin, “I could not forget..."  
His gloved hand wiped the blood from his nose as they stood facing one another; a single word didn’t have to be said as their aged bond reinforced itself between them, understanding in the other’s rage and vengeance as they agreed on an unspoken plan.  
Medic adjusted himself accordingly and turned towards the door, opening it just a fraction as he called out for his previous patient and peered down the hallway.  
“Scout?"

"No! I'm not kidding! Just..." Scout startled and starred back at Medic with wide eyes. "Just..watch out." He said to the phone, hanging up and taking a cautious step towards Medic. "You...did you get him?" He asked hesitantly.  
Medic looked guardedly to the handset before looking back to Scout with a deceiving look of success, “Vell enough.” He chuckled breathlessly, still removing excess blood from beneath his nose, “I am... 'in need of assistance’” he quoted, letting the doors swing behind him, “I can’t move him on my own"  
Scout let out a sigh of relief, sagging against the desk for a moment before trudging to the door. He pushed it open with a tired grin that fell and shattered as he looked up at the two men. "What!?"  
“Zhis has taken far too long to be done.” Medic grimaced, looking to Sniper as he lurched forward and cornered Scout. The barrage of medical instruments now looking sinister as the doctor mulled them over, picking up a small jar of clear liquid affixed with the words Ritalin written in bold black letters as he took a clean syringe and filled it to the brim with the substance. “Ve can’t just let you forget what you did, Scout.” He glared, a slight smile darkening his face as he twisted the needle between his fingers, "Zhis… Zhis vill make you all zhe more responsive to zhe experience…"  
Scout let out a frantic yelp as he was seized and restrained by Sniper. He gave a desperate betrayed look at Medic and tried to plead with him. "Hey, Doc, no! Hey, come on! What are you doing?! Shit! What the hell!?" He kicked out weekly and tried to break free, fumbling against Sniper’s secure grip.  
“Did you think zhere wouldn’t be consequences?” Medic leant down to Scout’s eye level, spitting in his face with resentment as he spoke, "For years I vasted time, attempting to tolerate your insolence…” the needle slipped through into scouts neck, steadied as doctor’s other hand gripped under his chin and took away his choice to reject it.  
Medic stared straight into the fear in Scout’s eyes…  
“Now… it’s time for you to get vhat you deserve."


	2. Chapter 2

Sammy thought about the urgent phone call earlier, how Scout had been so frantic in his words… She shook her head in annoyance, "Whatever.." she breathed, going back out to her car and bringing in her gear bag. She had been partially unloaded when the phone rang and lost track of time trying to figure out what he’d meant by what he said. This was just a prank right? Sammy got the last of the odds and ends out of the car, setting the things beside the vehicle. She had been coaching Little League for the Evansville Blue Devils since she had left her team at the forts; she kept in contact with Scout and they spoke on the phone often. It wasn't below him to call and try and scare her as a joke from time to time. "Well, that one time anyway..." she murmured out loud, collecting the bags and loose items off the ground. He had called her once after they had planned on seeing the same horror movie in the same night, trying to scare her after he knew she'd be asleep...but other than that. She set her things inside the door and sighed. "He sounded really..truly scared, and he hasn't called back yet to laugh at me." She thought, looking at the phone as though she expected it to ring on command. "No, I'm being silly, and he's being an ass." She said out loud, trying to convince herself. She waited, and waited, until it was getting dark out, and still the phone didn't ring. She had been slightly uneasy all day after the call, and now she was getting out and out worried. "I shouldn't do this...I'm freaking out..this is silly.." She thought as she picked up the phone and paged through her notebook looking for a lesser known contact. She dialed the number and waited for an answer. "Yes?" A heavily accented voice spoke on the other end. "Hey, Ranard?" She said hesitantly.  
Sammy paused a moment, waiting for the other to confirm. "It's me..Sammy." She said hesitantly to the silent receiver.  
"Yes, I know. What iz it you want?" The Frenchman said calmly. She sighed and covered her eyes with one hand, shaking her head as she spoke. "Look, I'm probably just overreacting, but… have you kept tabs on Scout by any chance? Like lately?" She asked.  
"But of course I have been… I keep 'tabs' on all of you." He said silkily.   
"Ok, great… creepy… but great.”  
“It’s my job, Samantha.” Spy interrupted, strongly making sure there would be no misunderstanding.  
“Sammy. Right... What is he doing right now? Do you know?" She asked as if he was currently standing right outside Scout's window.   
"Right now? How should i know? Why must you know?" He said, sounding mildly annoyed at the young woman calling him.  
"Because he called earlier, and sounded truly frightened… …I don't know, but I think something bad may have happened… I just want to know for sure… I hate to admit I'm worried, but I am." She confessed, hoping Renard would have some answers for her after all.  
"Well, if you must know, he iz most likely asleep. He got invited to try outs tomorrow morning for the red socks. He iz not the one I am watching right at thiz moment..." He said, not eluding further.  
Sammy considered his answer, nodding to herself. "Yeah, he had told me about that. Just, is there anyway you could check on him, maybe get back to me? You have my number right? 608-879-2617? " She asked, hoping he'd agreed. There was a long pause on the other side. Sammy was just about to speak again when he answered.  
"Give me a few days. I will get back to you on my own time." He said, hanging up before she could even thank him. She looked at the phone and said: "Well, thanks.." before hanging up her end. She looked out the window anxiously. "You'd better be ok.." She murmured..

 

The journey ahead took them hours, traveling close quarters in Sniper’s cough wagon as it filled with smoke and left a vapor trail from the open windows.  
Living in the malicious and care free atmosphere gave them the first sense of calm they’d experienced since finding times of rare privacy; on the battlefield, when anybody found that, they found an overwhelming feeling of release that kept them hooked for the next time.  
The road grew dark as Medic moved to the back of the camper, searching for the food they’d stored in Sniper’s minuscule fridge. It’s yellowing door hung ajar, blasting cold air at full power as the objects stuffed in it strained to escape the confines of the door; a pinstriped bungee cord kept it from swinging open completely but the wasted cold drained heavily on the van’s battery and In the dusty air of the dark they were forced to stop.  
“ah bugger.” Sniper stomped on the peddle, furiously twisting the ignition keys as the cry of the engine wheezed them to a halt.  
“Vhat is it now?” Medic called through the van, curious as Sniper opened the door up front and banged the top of the dashboard. A mess of wires sprang up as he opened a large compartment, pushing them aside as he stared into the depths of the engine, cussing under his breath as he reached in and shocked himself on the smoking battery.  
“It’s that fridge drainin' all the power.” Sniper gestured behind him to the stuffed machine before he turned and looked it over properly, "You’ve gotta cut him up in there and get that bloody door closed”  
“Vell I guess I know vhat ve’re eating tonight zhen.” Medic shrugged, delighted in his tone as Sniper sighed with a smirk and looked for the cupboard of spare batteries.  
The floor beside the fridge stank of iron as Medic unhooked the bungee cord and found one of his dark red jars leaking down the back of the door. His stiff breath took in the smell, reigniting the memories of it’s harvesting as he sat back ad lifted the jar to his nose.

Scout reeled back with a yelp as Medic straightened back up. The world came into an brilliant, horrible sharpness, and he noticed there was an alarming amount of blood on the floor. The bag that had been attached to him, just moments ago, lay smashed, popped by the other two men during their struggle. The smell hit him next and he grimaced at it. Medic’s twisted expression looked to Sniper and spoke. "Can you hold him vhile I get some …instruments, from the cabinet?" He asked, already turning away.  
Sniper chuckled, "No worries, the little rabbits already half dead as it is." He said, adjusting his grip so he had him under both arms with his rough hands clasped strongly behind Scout's head, forcing him to be vitally exposed, laid out with his arms helplessly hoisted on either side of his frightened face. Medic looked through the cabinet almost joyously, it had been a long time since letting himself writhe in this strange form of hunger. The days of setting crying children's broken bones and patching back together car crash victims were, at most, unrewarding. This, here, was where he excelled, returning to the pair entangled on the floor as he carelessly toted a tray full of surgical equipment towards them. He looked at Sniper again, instructing him to hold on tight, as Scout assuredly kicked and struggled to deny their success. "Doc! Guys! Come on, don't do this, please?! I'm sorry Ok!? I'm just..hey, NO!" Scouts voice grew increasingly more panicked as he spoke, the two men not even hearing him as they became indulged in the atmosphere. "First Zings first." Medic said, clawing into Scouts left leg as he pulled it up and rested the heal of his shoe on knee, keeping it straight as Scout tried to pull his leg back. Medic held it tight, taking a simple, and much too practical looking saw and placing it under Scout's knee.

“Doc?” Sniper’s rugged finger’s clicked inches from Medic's face as he came to from his consuming recollection, looking up at the man as he examined him and waited for an answer.  
“I’m gut. Just zhinking of how to prepare zhis fine leg of rabbit.” Medic rested the jar on his knee as the australian chuckled, leaning against the counter top; “Perhaps smoked?”  
“Sounds good to me.” Sniper grinned, grabbing a heavy torch from the peeling lino cupboard behind him before edging past the doctor's long legs to the door. He left red footprints as he stepped through the wasted liquid pooled on the vinyl floor by Medic's tall boots, creating a short path out the door before the earth soaked it up.  
Sniper gathered a bundle of sticks, organizing them roughly before finding kindle and carefully blossoming a flame in the center. “She’ll be hot enough in the time it takes you to prepare the meat”.  
Medic smirked, watching the small orange glow from the doorway, “Jawohl.”  
The fridge door shut easily as he removed the main obstruction from it’s contents, laying the hunk out lengthways as he searched for a suitable knife and found himself repeating the past.

Medic dragged the blade through the back of Scout's leg, slicing the skin and severing the muscle before teasing the tendons to snap from their own strength. Scout screamed as he felt the tear and the subsequent slithering of the tendons and they recoiled up to their attachments. As it hit the bone, the blade screeched, catching every now and then and jerking his whole body through torture before ripping through the other side. Medic threw the now useless limb down and did the same to the right leg, taking his time to listen to the muffled sounds of anguish Scout expelled as his nerves spasmed and detached with the jagged flesh of his limbs. "No more running for you." He taunted, laughing as the feeling sent shivers down his spine.  
It was getting hard to breath through the pain; he gasped and mewled, but was ignored as Medic grinned at Sniper. "Could you lay him on his stomach, ve must take care of zhat 'throwing arm' of his." He said with an ill suiting twitch of laughter.  
"Sure thing, mate." Sniper ginned, tossing Scout forward to land awkwardly on his chest. He was bleeding out badly, and the Ritalin made him acutely aware of the numbness in place of his feet and ankles. He tried to push himself up with his one good arm, but was kicked back flat by Sniper, who stood with one boot pressing firmly between the boys shoulder blades. "Ok Ok! I know...I know I ain't gonna make it outta here.. but please, PLEASE grant me this one last wish.. please don't hurt my ma, she ain't harmed no one.. come on..guys? Please?" He begged, resting his forehead on the bloody floor. This time they seemed to acknowledge him, the two men looked at each other. Sniper shrugged, saying: "I ain't got nothin against her...?" Wording it almost as a question towards Medic, who also shrugged. "Nein, I as vell." Scout let out a relieved sigh that seemed to deflate him under Sniper's boot. And with that the two went back to ignoring him. Medic bent Scout's arm up behind his back, so it stood like a flag pole from its socket. Scout moaned a little, both in pain and fear. "Ok, now ve just go...." Medic spoke softly, to himself, yanking upwards on the arm, dislocating the shoulder from the socket. The muscles revolted by seizing into cramping spasms around the injury. "And then ya do this!" Sniper said, kicking the back of Scout's outstretched elbow, knocking it into a devastating dislocation. "Oh..very nice." Medic complimented, grinning as he reverted back to his malicious self.  
"Best even these up." Sniper suggested casually.  
"Be my guest." Medic cooed, gesturing for him to take the other arm. Scout was nearly unconscious by this point from shock and blood loss as Sniper made quick work of the arm, destroying it brutally. "I think we're loosing our plaything, Doc." Sniper said as Scout lay, making small gasping sounds. “One more thing..." Medic said sternly, kicking Scout onto his back. That brought a small amount of life back to the boy and he opened his eyes. Medic scooped up a scalpel from the abandoned tray and knelt on the boys chest. This produced a labored cough from the boy and he lifted his tired eyes in fear. "It's time to take your voice..." Medic said grimly, grabbing him by the lower jaw and forcing his mouth open. Scout tried to turn away, but didn't have the strength left. Medic forced the blade to the back of his mouth, severing his tongue cleanly from the muscles holding it in place. The blood gushed from the wound, swirling over the floor from the corners of his mouth as the vicious men watched Scout slowly drown in his own blood.

 

Spy hung up the phone and rubbed his temples with a sigh. "Does she think I’m a baby sitter?" He thought, lighting a faded cigarette. He pulled a thin file out of his desk drawer and splayed out the pages. He had been watching Misha currently, his former team's Heavy weapons man. But now, with this phone call, he grew curious. "She wouldn't have called 'me' unless she was serious." He thought, tapping Misha's file on the desk and stuffing it back alphabetically in the drawer. His fingers followed the lettering and pulled out Scout's, verifying the address as he took his hand to dial the nearest train station. It wasn't a long trip after all, and he needed to satisfy his own curiosity as well.  
Renard took the train to Boston, getting there within the hour as the train docked early. When he arrived at Scout's Mother's apartment the residence was silent and lacked it’s usual splendor. It’s occupants had left just before he had arrived and the apartment was devoid of life, clothes and belongings strewn out across the floor. However, as he inspected Scout's room he grew concerned. Nothing of the boy's was packed, his suitcase was still on the shelf in the closet and his drawers were left untouched.  
Spy knew Medic had grasped a job working at the Memorial hospital down the street and in suspicion began stringing events together. He left the building, hailing a cab as he came across an area of tension further along the sidewalk. As the taxi passed he looked on to the rustling of police tape and splatterings of blood along the sidewalk leading in the general direction of the hospital… "Yes, something has indeed happened.”  
Spy had himself delivered a block away, walking the remaining distance as he noticed the police cars and coroners van parked on the street. He strode nonchalantly past them; successfully infiltrating the building past the huddled groups of frightened nurses talking to nauseous looking policemen. A potent and familiar smell filled his nostrils as he entered the ER; there was a lot of blood spilled here recently and it became more obvious as he followed the trail of bloody foot prints, two sets of coagulating tracks, to the room where the murder was committed. They hadn't moved the body yet and Renard could tell by the sheer amount of blood Scout had been most assuredly alive when the mutilations took place. He stared down at what was left of the boy with pity, "What did they do to you… Where are your legs… your tongue...?" He whispered out loud, crouching down beside him in an area almost free from fluid. Scout’s eyes grew pale as they stared towards the sky; the whites of his left eye had changed to a thick purple and left trails of red tears along his cheek. The color joined with the stain of his lips as they gaped wide open and displayed the disfiguring of his mouth with the glimmer of blood pooling in the back as it filled up his lungs.  
The veins in his shoulder pushed up to the surface of his skin and left dark patterns stemming from the half stitched bullet wound that was most likely his cause for first needing emergency attention.  
Spy knew better than to touch the body as he examined it; he was already breaking personal protocol, putting himself in the crime scene, let alone the fact that he'd be tracking blood, no matter how careful he was, for a good while.  
Spy couldn't be heartless in this case, looking down at the repulsing mix of fat and muscle flayed from the stubs of Scout's legs… Still, he had to leave before he was caught and questioned and stood to leave the room without looking back; the image held itself within his mind even as he entered the daylight outside and walked unnoticed past the same group of people a second time as a policeman began puking in the bushes beside the hospital entrance.  
"I will have to inform His mother… and Samantha…” The feeling was almost heavy on him as he walked down the sidewalk towards their abandoned apartment.  
Rethinking about the wound on Scout's shoulder Renard new that Sniper was been involved. He had been keeping a particularly keen eye on the Australian, due to past feuds and strong grudges, and found he had been on the move a lot lately, piquing Renard's curiosity… "Where are you traveling to now?" He considered who the next target might be… Now that there's two killers to seemed logical to presume there'd be more murders. That's how these things work, after all.  
Renard looked briefly at the traffic on the street; he’d need a car to find them fast enough and decided hailed a cab again, instructing the driver to take him to the nearest lot.  
Upon securing transportation, he set out, having a sneaking suspicion that he may have been the next target, due to the closeness of his location. He chose the roads that would cater for Sniper's large camper van and followed it closely.  
There were several shoddy and seclusive rest stops for campers and truckers along this route; pulling into one of them Renard grabbed several brochures from a stand and picked the most barren looking camp ground as his first choice to scour for the murderous pair.  
Renard waited at the rest area until the sun diminished beyond the horizon, pacing about; smoking the last of his cigarettes and drinking coffee from the hospitality desk as he thought about the situation.  
Feeling safer under the cloak of darkness, Spy warmed the engine and took leave of the stop, starting for the campground he had chosen for they're supposed location. He had driven for maybe an hour when he saw an all too recognizable sight parked along the road. "So you're not in a camp ground?" He thought, narrowing his eyes as he passed them. Renard could see a small blink of a camp fire across the ditch in the nearby patch of woodlands. "Interesting..." he murmured out loud. He drove almost a mile up road and pulled over carefully, parking up the broken concrete driveway belonging to an paint peeled abandoned outbuilding.  
Spy walked carefully along the side of the road back to the place he’d spotted Sniper’s lazily parked van. He crept through the silent woods, watching his steps to make sure he didn't compromise himself by snapping a twig or rustling dry leaves in the undergrowth. Getting to the edge of the odd shaped clearing, Renard watched Sniper and Medic sitting beside a spluttering fire. Taking in the scene he eyed the hunk of sliced meat beside them, “Mon dieu… that’s… they are eating his legs!" Spy thought, looking at the pair in absolute horror as he swiftly backed away from them, turning instead to the silhouette of the camper that reflected the soft orange hue of the fire a few feet away. Spy snuck to the opposite side of the vehicle as he looked through the windows and peered at the glaze of blood on the floor. He could smell it from memory as Scout’s torn body came back into his mind. It was certain that he had to get inside, search for any indications of their route, a map, a hit list, anything that would tell him where they were going after this, perhaps even what order they planned on killing in… He took in a steadying breath and edged around to the same side of the truck the two former team members sat, boasting about their exploits as they sat backs to the camper. Spy looked cautiously around the corner to make sure they were still in the same position and made no attempt to move.

Medic inhaled sharply, pulling his stained fingers over his lips as he chuckled, “Ooo… Schadenfreude…”  
“‘Pleasure’, mate” Sniper corrected, staring lustfully into the bright glow of the fire, “The undeniable grip of satisfaction...”  
The doctor agreed, smiling in gratification as his breath escaped him... “Ja…” His eyes closed gently as Sniper recounted the experience again in exquisite detail; only stopping every so often to enjoy the lean meat Medic had scored and slowly roasted over the fire.

Upon seeing only their backs, Spy silently walked around to the door and examined the latch; he didn't dare touch it, knowing from the way it stuck if he pushed any harder the noise would compromise everything... He moved around to the front of the cab, leaning over the hood for a view into the windshield as the truck gave a settling squeak at his weight…


	3. Chapter 3

Spy's breath seized in his throat as his gaze shot at the two men by the fire. It was impossible to pass the sound off as the engine cooling, especially after this long…   
Sniper picked up on the creaky suspension, lifitng his head off his entwined hands as he turned purely out of curiosity and dragged his elbows off his knees. His keen eyes widened in shock but were fast to narrow as a look of delight crossed his face.   
Spy abandoned the truck, edging backwards as Sniper pushed off the floor and picked up pace towards Renard. “Was ist los?” the doctor called after him, his expression turning from slight curiosity to blatant glee as he caught sight of the familiar Spy and slowly rose to eye level.  
“Nothin'. Thin’s just got interestin' is all.” Sniper chuckled, gaining distance as Medic came to his side and agreed with a breathless snicker… Spy stared fearfully into the malice filled eyes of the two, swearing as he turned on heel and made a blind dash down into the ditch. He strongly hoped to be the first to his vehicle as it’s ghosted silhouette formed out of the darkness; he’d rather not turn into his pursuers entertainment, given what he had seen first hand beside the fire...  
His sleek leather soled shoes began to fail him, slipping on the loose gravel as their formal built surface failed to grip the crusted dirt beneath him and hauled him downwards. Spy felt the wind rush past him, falling ungracefully on his chest as the ground forced the air from his lungs and left him stunned; cursing at fate. How could this happen… Of all the times he’d spent running through bullets this had to be the time his tread failed him…   
Snipers long stride had him caught up in an instant, tackling over the Frenchman as he tried to rise and pushed against the earth beneath him.   
"Ya bloody Spook! I got you now!” His voice deafened in Renard’s ear as he cuffed him hard in the back of the head and pinned him to the ground.   
The soft light of Spy's surroundings faded instantly, knocked out by Sniper’s heavy swing as he grimaced triumphantly. Medic stood behind him, lowering his hand to Sniper as he took his long legs from either side of the unconscious man and got timely to his feet.   
"It looks as zhough ve have a new play zhing... “ A dark grin bloomed across the doctor's face as Sniper groomed thoroughly for weapons and removed the antique gun Spy had brought as life insurance, taking it from the small of his back before moving down his legs. Handling him roughly, Sniper gripped his game by the ankles and began dragging him confidently across the uneven ditch back to camp.   
The spots of gravel caught the hem of Spy's suit and scraped into his flesh as Medic took his other leg and pulled effortlessly against his weight.  
“How should ve secure him?” he asked inquisitively as they returned to the dying fire of make shift camp; the Australian smirked wildly, swinging open the screeching camper door as he pulled a rope from the closest discoloured cabinet to his reach.   
Spy was showing signs of awareness when he returned, scowling and groaning as they tied his arms behind his head and hauled him into the back of the van.  
A cold, tingling sensation greeted Renard as he awoke in a daze, feeling the thick ties of rope cutting off circulation as they bound around his arms and hands. The sting of his face and tingeing nerves registered every shallow scrape the gravel had dug into him, ”Wake up, piker!" Sniper yelled, contacting his fist against the bones of Spy’s face.   
He winced and stared up at them, fury burning in his eyes, "What have you done, what are you doing!?” His words came forced as he spat towards Sniper, "Have you both gone insane!?" Renard shouted up at them angrily as he tugged at the rope and tried to edge away, immensely disheartened, finding there was no place to run in his new surroundings.   
“Insane? nah. We’ve come to our senses.” The walls of the camper confined him as Sniper came closer, pulling his leg up Renards side and looming over him as a pinch forced Spy to acknowledge the dirtied tribalman’s shiv pointing into his ribs.   
Medic’s deep gravelly laugh filled the van as he leant against the door and watched the scene unfold with carnal eyes, “Ja… Zhis is somezhing you deserve, Herr Spy.” His sleek hands pulled tightly on the end of the rope, watching keenly as it gripped against Spy’s wrists and caused his fists to tense in rebuttal. Renard glared at him in anguish before flicking his panicked eyes back to the advancing Australian. His hands came either side of Spy's waist as he leant foreword and brought the tip of his shiv to the frenchman's chin. The lascivious expression accompanied on Sniper's didn’t keep his attention for long as the blade pierced his skin and compelled Spy to writhe as the man continued down his throat to his chest, tearing roughly through Spy's gritted suit as he slashed down to his waistline.  
Spy’s sense of hatred hesitated as his body tensed, twisting further and further into fear as the man’s eyes followed the tracks of his knife and gripped the side of Renard's hips…   
The pair of sharp scanning eyes shot back up to his neck, shifting closer as Sniper hauled his other leg up beside the frenchman and with one decisive movement forced Spy's head back with a firm grip on his chin. A dreading gasp escaped him as Renard attempted to push against the bushman’s coarse hands and catch sight of what loomed below his vision, but his struggle only enforced his limitations.   
Panicked eyes flickered between Medic’s gawking expression and the leer of the unknown as Spy tried his hardest to both feel and deny what could begin taking place, finding himself hyperventilating in dread as his mind accepted the full meaning of incapacitation…   
The doctor’s lips turned upwards as he gripped firmly on the rope and tugged against his waistband as a heated look of frustration washed over him...   
The feeling came like ice against Spy's skin as the hook of sharp teeth clutched around his throat, constricting Renard's airways as Sniper felt the strong taste of iron blossom against his tongue, filling his throat with fluid ecstasy. His crawling figure pulled Spy’s neck up into his lips, biting hard as he moved his other hand to the place he’d stopped before...  
The sensation as the blood left his body made Renard severely nauseous; almost unfeeling as Sniper pushed up his torn shirt and viscously tugged at the belt between them, the fierce man's subtle groaning reverberating through his chest as his bite teased down on Spy’s trachea…  
It became increasingly difficult to breathe and find any strength to kick back against Sniper’s hands as they took away the dignity he’d managed to keep for all the years they’d worked together…  
Cold fluid welled up in his eyes as the man denied Renard any chance to wail from the pain of his teeth or from rejection to his plans, but hearing the pain was just as enjoyable as dealing it…   
His teeth unhooked from Spy’s neck and pushed his face down into the ash glazed fabric surface of the van’s extended sofa; it took two moves to twist him over, grasping him by the waist and hoisting upwards, as the pants for air delayed Spy's rebuttal.   
“Sni..per…” The name croaked through his gasps for air with distraught anger before he looked pleadingly to his side and stared up at the shell of a man he once called comrade... “Med… “   
The doctor eyed him with a bleak expression that was almost amused at Spy’s search for help… 

Renard flinched abruptly; Sniper’s unclothed hips pressed up against his backside and ground as his thumbs rubbed over Spy's tensed entrance, pulling apart his cheeks(?). Sniper smirked open mouthed, spitting onto his rear and watching it dribble down the curve of his genetalia as Medic groaned in arousal, engrossed as Spy shivered and found his voice of rejection.   
“…No… ”   
The rope tugged sharply, hurting as it wrapped round his neck from being flipped onto his front…   
Snipers thick fingers slid more spittle generously over his entry before teasing their way in and out…  
“No… No… NO.” Spy’s words were met with strangulation as Medic yanked up and held him off the sofa bed by his neck.  
“Perhaps ve should take care of your mouth too.” his eyes grew in intensity, lips arranged in a smile as Renard choked for air and replayed the image of Scout within his fleeting mind…   
“I won’t let him give ya any trouble” The australian grumbled, taking the rope as Medic dropped Spy and observed as Renard coughed from the suffocation, clenching against Sniper’s sliding fingers.   
“Let me see… My tools are around here somevhere…” the doctor moved out of sight as Sniper’s grip on the rope tightened, forcing the distraught man to arch his back to breathe. “Ah here ve go.” The stainless steel cheek retractor gleamed in his hand, held with a pair of tongs that looked far too encrusted in blood to be sterile…   
As Spy twisted his head away from the contraption the rope tightened again, distracting him quick enough for the cold metal to slip against the corners of his lips and kept his mouth from closing…   
The tongs burned in taste as they gripped the first of his back teeth. “Now hold still as I-“ Medic yanked down, almost bringing Spy’s head with him from the sheer force of it’s taking, “-remove zhe problem.”   
An excited look of desire brought a cold light to the doctors face as he focused again and realigned the instrument… “einunddreißig to go!”  
Sniper’s third finger thrust in frantically, soaked by his saliva as he coaxed whimpers from Spy between Medic’s extractions; he wouldn’t let the pulsing of his oversensitive crotch get the best of him yet… not until Renard's cries were purely from his humiliation… 

 

The blood filled up the frenchman's mouth until he found no other way but to swallow it in order to breathe; it’s potent taste made him sick to his stomach as Medic made his way round his mouth, smirking harder each time and chuckling, slightly, in-between as Spy jerked from Sniper’s hard rhythm.   
Finding his grip on the last tooth, the german grinned lewdly as he pulled, placing it hastily in a jar with the other’s before turning his view on Renard’s tear filled eyes.   
Sniper’s wet digits pulled out quickly as he pulled the leash and nodded at the doctor as he held it back to force Spy’s gaze...  
“Now open vide.”   
Medic pushed down the front of his pants, pulling out his erection as he grabbed the back of Spy’s head and shoved down into his throat; the heat at his sopping rear entering simultaneously as the pain screeched through his lungs and stopped, muffled by the doctor’s length as it tried to escape his bloodied mouth.  
Sniper clawed his hands against Spy’s hips as he seized them into his with harder and faster drives… The obscured whines of the frenchman enticed him further as he tugged on the rope and moved Renard backwards and forewords over both their shafts.  
Medic sat against side of the van, eyes narrowed in pleasure as he directed Spy’s head over him and gazed at the pained expression. Blood leaked from his mouth, dripping down the doctor's testes as he grew hot and flustered, tensing as he groaned.   
The push of Sniper’s hips slammed as he studied Medic’s blushed stare and grinned wildly, taking him by surprise as he pulled the rope back and turned Spy over to admire the expression Medic had been all too selfish to view…   
Renard writhed, desperate not to feel them inside him again, but Sniper’s smirk spoke clear enough as he pushed himself into Spy and laughed as the cry of pain fully bared into their ears. Medic moaned, stroking himself vigorously with one hand as he knelt over the man’s cries of anguish and wet his erection with more of the pooling warm blood. He crouched over, unable to stay up straight as he jerked frantically and forced himself down Renard’s throat as he came into his trachea and out over his gaping mouth…   
The doctor’s length twitched as Sniper's thrusts into Spy pushed Renard's head against the doctor’s knees and came closer to the edge. The Australian sniggered, applauding the mix of dirty blood, semen and tears Medic had coloured on Spy’s agonised features; it hitched him closer, shoving faster until breaking point…   
The fluid seeped around him as Sniper released, slowly pulling out and watching as his cum dribbled out Renard’s stretched entrance, extensively violated and still pulling sobs from the spy…   
He reached for his rifle, lubing the end with the fluid still oozing from Renard before easing it in and up further into his organs before moving in and out in long painful strokes…  
It was more than tempting to pull the trigger as Spy lay there weeping in a pool of humiliation… 

 

Medic’s pants slowly calmed as he peered with heavy eyelids and red cheeks to Sniper,   
“vhat’s next?..."

 

 

The blood covered rope bound Renard to the front of the van, arms held tight as his lower half lay against the ground…  
Tears fell from his eyes as he stared at the road, two pairs of boots in front of him coordinating his death…   
Sniper’s fingers gripped his jaw along the bruises from before, turning Spy’s head to face him.   
There was no point to look him in the eye… Renard wouldn’t give him the satisfaction… His defiance earned him a kick in the gut before they turned and got swiftly into the van…  
The doors shut with a clang and then left him in silence… Disturbed anticipatedly by the kick of the engine as it whirred into life…   
This was it…

This was the end…

After so many years of respawning…   
He would have to greet death as he grinned, finally knowing there was no return...

 

 

Mon dieu…

 

The sandpaper ground took his skin as he screamed unheard over the roar of the engine…  
Shredding down his muscles to bone as the tears fell from his face and caught the wind… 

 

Streaks of red painted the floor…   
The metal complained as flesh and bone wrapped itself underneath the car… The right tyre slipped momentarily as limbs smeared underneath it and dragged the beat of rattling fragments along the dark stretch of road…   
The bones got caught in the hub cap and ground heavily on the tarmac until the ropes on the front of the van flailed wildly with no catch to bind… 

 

 

 

Along the trail and across several state lines a bearded group of men in civil war uniforms waved heartily at their friend as he left for home at the end of the day. They returned their wave as he climbed into an ageing jeep; Soldier promised his usual "See you men tomorrow, a 0700!" And keyed the engine. It wasn't a long trip home, he lived just south of Williamsburg and had recently been enjoying his new glory as a war re-enactor.   
The rust bucket pulled up into the driveway, but not into the garage. No… Soldier checked the seals for tampering and found them clear for the one-hundred-and-thirty-fith time… The jagged door was rigged to explode should it be opened by any means.  
He warily walked up the sidewalk to the front door, careful not to overstep as the second and fourth tiles he’d placed had been rigged with stolen land mines, set to go off upon the administration of pressure.   
Soldier’s narrowed eyes checked the front door, examining the thread between the storm door and the main door for indications of being cut or pulled by an intruder. Upon finding it still intact, he left the front step and discreetly circled round to the back of the house; he never used the main door for entrance, it’s presence was just a front for appearances and only ever opened on particular days. 

The barren back yard was fenced in by a tall wooden row and had great loops of bolted barbed wire strewn across the top. Soldier crushed any plant life that seemed to be growing, viewing it as a possible infringement as the back yard was a true mine field; navigating where the bombs were individually would expose the path that he only knew. His light feet navigated precisely to his back door and swiftly undid the series of locks Soldier had securing it’s thick mottled frame.   
Triggered by the opening door a tape recorder barked his own voice back at him, yelling for the trespasser to leave now whilst a variety of threats snuck in and resounded throughout the house. He pressed firmly on the off button and hit rewind, scanning around the room until it made an encouraging click and reset to the beginning.   
Soldier peered slowly around the nearest doorway and ran a quick but thorough search throughout the small building until he was assured that he was completely and utterly alone; unaccompanied in his little, and impenetrable, fortress.


	4. Chapter 4

Medic’s stare became hard to ignore as Sniper drove his rusted camper van along the barren highway, “What?” Medic kept his eyes fixed on him but wavered as he spoke.  
“Do you have a map?”  
"I think I've got one under your seat.” Sniper glanced over, gesturing to the collective mess crammed underneath the ageing passenger seat. Medic turned away, moving his hand between his legs to remove the map from its hiding spot and sat back in the chair; his precise hands plotted the previous and present course, leaning over to look at the speedometer as his eyes flickered between their readings and the lined coordinates in his hands.  
"If ve carry on overnight... ve could be zhere by late morning, sleep during the day und attack at night." He looked steadily back to Sniper for his reaction and found him nodding at the suggestion. “It'll be cooler at night too. Radio said it’s gonna be foul 'n hot this week.”  
The doctors eyes peered patiently at the horizon, “I heard."

 

Thomas had settled in for the night, finding himself cosy in his little Jerry rigged house. The evening news brought flickering light into the background and with his favorite raccoon beside him, Soldier found time to ease his running mind. The tv light flickered over the glass taxidermic eyes of his companion; Bites had been dead over a year. He’d had him mounted, poised in a standing salute with his other stiff paw holding a miniature American flag. To him it was company; the only guest he’d ever accept in his home… Thomas reached over, occasionally patting the dead animal’s head whenever something upsetting came up on the news.

As the scroll of headlines ended Soldier picked up his solid friend and carried him to the next room, carefully situating him on the tall chest of drawers in the corner of his bedroom. "Goodnight, Bites." He croaked confidently, returning the Raccoon's permanent salute before edging into bed. Thomas looked kindly to his overseer, unaware that he was actually under a real threat for the first time since leaving the forts; only around 400 miles away, two former comrades drove South, plotting his imminent death.

 

The tall men knew they would have to stop for gas soon; the RV usually got about 17 mpg and they had already used the hefty gas cans strapped aboard the back rack.  
They were nearly to the halfway point of their journey already and would have no problem finishing the trip once the tank and spare cans were filled once more.  
"Any stations in the next hour?" He asked Medic, who had drowsed slightly with the map on his knees. His steady hand rubbed his eyes and stared dizzily at the coordinates, looking for any small gas pump symbols indicating a station further ahead on their route.  
“Vhere are ve, round abouts?" He asked, unsure if he had missed any landmarks.  
"Well, you clocked out just before we passed Manhattan. We're on the Jersey turnpike now ...95... Just saw a sign for Rossmoor 'bout 15 minutes ago.” He looked over from the leather steering wheel and wiped his brow with his arm. "Ok if you drive for awhile? I'm goin' bloody cross-eyed over here." Sniper said, rubbing his left eye vigorously with the palm of his hand. The doctor nodded soberly, agreeing to drive as he studied the map in the glow of the dash lights. "If its still open, zhere should one coming up. Ja… roughly 5 miles avay." He determined, trying to gauge the precise location on the map.

There was, indeed, a gas station about 5 miles ahead and they pulled in to find a sleepy teenager manning the outdated national register. The boy drug his elbows lazily off the counter and wandered out to service the RV, muttering to himself about his choice of job keeping him up so late. The men had climbed out to switch places and stand upright for awhile. "The tanks on the back, kid." Sniper instructed, pointing a thumb at the rear of the van as he lit a cigarette between his middle and forefinger. The boy nodded and walked around the RV sluggishly, before glaring sober at the smeared sight of blood spattered across the right wheel well. “Ve hit a deer..." Medic explained, the kid looked unconvinced as he peered at the undamaged grill on the front of the vehicle. “It vas razher difficult to miss, ve zhink it had been hit down beforehand." The young man stood for a moment, glancing back at the smear and nodded reluctantly. No matter how dodgy it was he couldn't question himself to the nature of the situation; turning away with a shudder to fuel up the scratched vehicle he tried to ignore his twisted feelings. He had never liked the night shift and these two towering men made him deeply uncomfortable as they watched him, knowing of his suspicion. The boy hurried the process along as much as possible, willing the rusted fuel pump to go faster as he glanced at the advance of falling embers highlighting one of the men’s faces with a harsh orange glow.  
Sniper had wandered over to examine the smear and chuckled at it, taking a worn bandanna from his pocket and using it to wipe a small caricature of Spy in the blood, drawing a chuckle from both men and a shiver from the teen as he lugged the spare metal tanks off the back rack.  
He cautiously watched the men leave to occupy the small station, one receding into the back to use the bathroom while the other dropped a light coin in the dish beside the coffee maker and proceeded to poured a drink for both himself and his unsettling companion. 

Filling both tanks and replacing them on the back rack, the young man paced past the blood smear with an obscured grimace, hoping his fear was just misplaced and the gore was something innocent… He put the thoughts to one side as he joined them in the outbuilding, warily placing himself on the opposite side of the disused counter. “What's the damage?" Sniper asked him stiffly, taking out his handcrafted wallet. “$33.50..." The boy responded hesitantly; the bedraggled man grunted and pulled out an array of crumpled bills from the pressed leather pouch. "Hell o' a time for a road trip, with this bloody gas hike." His voice grumbled behind his cigarette as he handed the notes of currency over.  
The kid just nodded silently, accepting the bills and quickly producing change, hoping they wouldn't hang around. 

The men took their coffees with disheveled smiles and left hurriedly, Medic now sitting himself behind the wheel as they got comfortable and kicked the engine into action, leaving the kid to wonder just what it was about them that had him so rattled, besides the questionable crimson spray painting their vehicle… 

Sniper glanced at the station on the map as he marked it with his cigarette and shuffled down in his seat, “Stay on 95, eventually it'll turn into 295, but not until we're closer to the Delaware river.” His slim boots crossed over themselves on the dashboard as he put the map on the stained floor between them and tipped his suede hat over his eyes, "You gotta while.”

 

 

Sammy woke by her alarm clock, groggy and unfocused; she hadn't been sleeping well since her last conversation with Spy; It had been too long and she was getting an uneasy feeling from not hearing from him. "You'd think, he'd be calling back soon..." she thought idly, going through her morning routine. It was easier to push the worrying distraction out of her mind for the coming hours, however, as she started to work it began to grind on her. Sammy loaded her gear into the boot of the car with a troubled sigh and started the engine, the radio blaring to life and startling her as she backed down the drive. Alice Cooper came through the crackling speakers singing "No more Mr. Nice guy!" and soon Sammy was able to distract herself as she drove the short trip to Evansville high-school's parking lot.

Tossing the keys in the lose side pocket of her gear bag she shouldered her collection of stuff and joined the herd of teachers walking in through the side doors, attempting to ignore the combined noise of buses and children as they began to overwhelm the parking lot.  
Sammy didn't speak to many of the other faculty members, most of them had already dismissed her as odd or annoying earlier in the year and in turn she got teased a lot at work. Instead she found it easier to keep to herself, but the loneliness encroached on her without the constant phone calls from Frankie, the other scout. It didn't help that a loud percentage of the school thought it unfitting for there to be a female athletics coach in the facility.  
Sammy tossed her things inside the door of her enclosed “office", which amounted to an emptied out, and rarely cleaned, janitorial closet attached to the gymnasium, before meeting her first quarter class for basic fitness.  
The hours went by slower as she got lost in worried daydreams about Scout and Spy, and at the end of the day she almost forgot to meet her favorite class for little league on the freshly cut playing field outside.  
Their atmosphere provided a much needed respite from worry and she welcomed their childish banter as they got competitive, getting each other dirty as they laughed and messed around with each other. Her 'kids' as she called them, adored her and she them, although she was still met with disapproving eyes from the parents who also had unnecessary issues with her gender.  
Sammy shrugged them off, finding her worries to be far more serious, as she met her kids cheerfully and gathered them together for the pre-practice meeting.

 

"Okay." She said once the children had gathered, "Who caught the game last night? Several eager little hands went up, a few stayed down reluctantly. One little boy shuffled his small shoes in the sand and spoke up, feeling the need to explain as if he had let her down.  
"My pa said I had to do my other homework first, and I couldn't get my math done on time, then i had to go to bed." he said shyly.  
Sammy looked to him with kind eyes, "Its ok...” she cooed, getting cut off as the rest of the kids all spoke at once.  
“Did'ja see Colborn's curve ball?!”  
“Did'ja see him strike out Stein?”  
"That one guy got hit by a pitch!”  
"Briggs stole a base!”  
The kids all chattered at once, and she raised her hands to regain their attention and calmly quiet them down. "Ok, well for those of you who did catch it, how many took notes?" She asked, trying not to shame those who hadn't. Fewer hands went up this time and she gave them an comically exaggerated sigh, causing a few to giggle. "Ok, so, for those of you who did catch it, and were paying attention...did you see How Briggs stole the base? How it took him three tries to get there? Now, who knows why it took three attempts?" She quizzed the group. They stayed silent, unsure of a proper answer. "It was to cause distraction, throw the pitcher off his game so now he has to worry about pitching and a potential steal. It also gets the pitcher used to seeing him off base, so he may not notice in time when he legitimately is going for a steal. Get it?" She loved watching their eyes light up when they understood a strategy for the first time. "Okay, so i want you guys to try that today for one thing, and for part two of today...did anyone happen to see George Scott's two homers?" She said, knowing the reaction this one would get her. Sure enough the kids all began making a chorus of “Ooo’s” towards her, knowing her comical crush on the first baseman. "Yeah yeah." She smiled, shaking her head. "But i digress." She tried to get the vertically challenged group settled down again. "Did you catch his follow through? the way he lets the bat swing all the way around behind him, or maybe you noticed his foot work in his stance? " She demonstrated the long powerful stance Briggs took when batting. "I would love to see you guys batting like that, yeah?" she encouraged as she sent them out into the field to run drills, ignoring the disapproving looks of the teachers as she coached the kids through the key points she had mentioned previously.  
The ecstatic; enthusiastic faces of the kids cheered her up a little but Sammy found herself spending more than she would have liked thinking about the answering machine back home; the possibility that there could be a message waiting for her after work gave her some peace of mind, but the latter pulled paranoia from inside her bones. 

She had just sent the last child home, waving at them with what was now false cheer, as they were shuttled off by their father. The scout packed up hastily and ran to her car, attempting to get home as soon as legally possible as she flicked her eyes between the speed limit road signs and the wavering red needle on the dashboard.  
As soon as she pulled into the drive, Sammy abandoned her things and made for the door. Her hands rushed to the answering machine and frantically pressed the button.  
Nothing,  
The automated voice telling her the absence of messages almost crushed her as she held the receiver stiffly to her cheek. Her other hand pulled the instruction book open beside her, checking it’s words just in case she hadn't set it up right; abruptly tossing it aside with a frustrated sigh as she knew it was not the case. Dialing the now familiar number where she had last reached Spy she crossed her fingers, twisting the phone cord around her hand as she listened to the never ending dial tone. "No answer… 'big surprise'." she grumbled, hanging up the phone in reluctance. Sammy needed someone to talk to, anyone who may know whats going on. Her strong fingers strummed on the counter as she eyed her notebook, contemplating a plan that may inevitably keep her sanity. She nabbed it up and paged through it, dialing swiftly and unknowingly holding her breath as it rang.

"Yeah?” It seemed to ring forever before the groggy voice finally answered.  
"Hey, its me, Sammy, Tavish?" She spoke quickly, relieved to hear a familiar voice. "Hu...Sammy, when'd you get here?” Demo slurred, obviously too drunk to actually figure out what was happening. "Ah shit." Sammy sighed, knowing he must be absolutely hammered. "Tavish, hey, HEY!! Pay attention this is important!!" She shouted into the phone as she heard him pull away from the receiver. "Yeah? What?" He groaned, not quite able to pull it together. What could she say to sober him up enough to make him pay attention? She pondered it for a moment while he grumbled on absently about his new job working at a copper mine at "Berkeley Pit in Butte Montana".  
When they had been at the forts, Sammy and Tavish had tried different times at a relationship, though it had been harshly frowned upon. She had thought of him a few times since their leave, and had a feeling he thought of her as well. For lack of a better plan she decided to act on it. "Tavish?" She asked, in a heavily flirty voice. "What?" He croaked, still sounding confused. "Tavish, it's me, Sammy...i miss you.”  
"Hu? Sammy? Oh..hi Sam.” The man cleared his throat at the other end of the receiver; she could tell he was already trying to sound more sober.  
"Yeah, it's me...." She reiterated.  
"How have you been?” He managed, trying almost too hard to pull a sentence together.  
"Well, i don't know." She hesitated, not wanting to discuss to much with him in this state. "I think there may be trouble. Could you please call me back tomorrow, Tavish, when you’re sober?"  
"Sammy, you in trouble?" Concern slurred through his voice.  
“Please call me back. Can you get a pen and a paper? I need you to write my number down." She wished he would be ’sobered’ enough to find one and hoped he would come back after he fell silent and the distant sound of objects shuffled in the background. Glass shattered suddenly and she could hear the bout of drunken Scottish swears from the distance. Tavish got back quickly afterwards. picking up the phone and yelling into the phone.  
"Sammy!! I found it!" he shouted as Sammy cringed away from the volume.  
"Okay, now listen very closely. Write this number on the paper: (608) 979-2617, and underneath it write 'call Sammy, emergency'. " She gave him a little time as he mumbled, hopefully writing it down right. "Can you read it back to me?" She grimaced, surprised when he actually did, accurately. “Ok.” Her fingers tapped as he thought about his habits, "now i need you to tape it to you fridge? Ok? “ He shambled off again, and didn't come back this time. Sammy waited for about 10 minutes and finally hung up when she no longer heard any movement coming from the other end.  
She stood for a moment, starring at the phone as she hoped for him to be able to find her words...

 

 

As the sun came up on the horizon Medic glanced idly over to Sniper. He’d been peering at him once or twice, wondering if the lanky Australian had woken up or was simply tensing in his sleep; he wasn't sure why the man didn't go into the back of the camper and sleep properly, perhaps he didn't trust him at the wheel of his van.The doctor pondered it as he watched the road for lay-bys, starting to feel his stomach groan for food as his head ached for slumber.  
The road seemed to stretch in front of him as he realized it’s illusion was the land on either side becoming flat enough to obscure the width of the road, incidentally meaning it was good enough to park on ignoring the array of rocks and potholes. Medic pulled over, surprised as Sniper stayed quiet in his hardly comfortable position in the passenger seat as the van shuddered and came to a halt on the dirt.  
“Sniper?” There was no sound from him but Medic still needed him to move out the way of the door; one of the man’s legs had made it’s way across to the edge of his seat as he clambered over awkwardly and tried to nudge the door open without waking him. The allure of food had begun overtaking his courtesy as he eventually pushed past the stubbled man and swung into the cabin, heading directly for the fridge filled with choice cuts of meat.  
An eager smile crossed his face as he wrestled his hands through to the already cooked section of leg. “-Me… Med…” The doctor turned towards the muffled sounds as the came seemingly from the front of the van; a inquisitive look of confusion furrowed his brows as he put the meal down on the side board and closed the steel fridge.  
His hands reached out for the door, finding a boot about to hit him directly in the face as Sniper began yelling his name and fell into the foot-well. Medic cursed the heavy kick as the tread collided with his nose; trying once again to get past his legs, he grabbed the man by the shoulders and began shaking him.  
“Sniper. Raize! Vake up, Asrchloch!”

“I won't let them do it again!”  
The Australian's eyes pierced open, almost paralyzed as he swallowed and stared straight up into Medic’s fierce look of concern that paired with agitation from his bleeding nose. Hesitation washed over Sniper as the irked man’s crimson fluid dripped onto his face, tracing down his features as he moved to push the doctor away and ignored his pressing looks for some form of explanation.  
There wasn't anything he could say that didn't make him seem vulnerable, especially after having a breakdown within his vivid dreams… 

“Sniper- argh…” Medic’s hand covered his nose as he wiped the warm blood away for the second time and glared at the man with a pang of sympathy. Whatever had gotten Sniper riled up enough to shout for him seemed to be a dangerous topic to talk about as the man’s shocked expression turned abruptly to anger, rivaling his own displeasure at being struck in the bridge of his nose.  
The doctor unmoving eyes watched him carefully, pondering situations that wouldn't tip the cornered Australian over the edge; in a swift movement he backed off, moving through the open door and into the cabin to leave the rugged man to cuss at himself. His tensed eyes tried not to look back and confront Sniper as he pulled himself out the dark foot-well and raised himself to his feet, instead Medic kept his sight directly on the damp red floor in front of him as he sat on the inbuilt sofa and mulled over the situation. 

Sniper shuffled himself down the stairs, striding over as the doctor felt warm blood still running down to his mouth and felt it become obstructed by something warmer. The new entity widened his eyes as Sniper’s closed tightly and lips pushed his apart; a foreign sensation filled his mouth as he tried to comprehend the situation, placing the indulgent feeling that captivated his mind. The shock raced his heartbeat over his body, recognizing the stimulation caressing against his pants as Sniper gripped his hand over him, eager in motion. He pulled Medic closer, firm in his entwining their tongues and rewarding the doctor as his hands returned the desiring touch over Sniper’s restricted length.  
The Australian groaned through the kiss, almost too impatient as he grasped Medic tighter through his clothing and provoked a gasp from his heavy breathing. Sniper's slender hands moved to grip the doctors belt and his own, hastily removing the cloth barrier between them as he held Medic panting, withdrawing his tongue to study the German's flustered face and drooling lips.  
Tugging harshly on their trousers Sniper exposed them both, stroking their hard lengths together as he rubbed against Medic and slid his tongue into the back of the doctor’s lusting mouth.  
Medic’s hands gripped tightly around Sniper’s shirt, moaning muffled as the lascivious man jacked them both off and pinned him to the seat in arousal. The craved man's stimulation made the doctor writhe underneath him as he caressed his fingers down his shaft to grope his smooth scrotum; Medic dragged his hand firmly over Sniper’s body as he traced down his chest to gratify the other’s hard precumming length, feeling the Australian's touch trail further to his entrance.


End file.
